Collaborative Efforts
by PrairieLily
Summary: When the Vegas team of CSI's visits D.C. to work in conjunction with NCIS on a case, Abby finally snaps. McAbby implied, but not a shipper story. Oneshot.


Title: Collaborative Efforts 

(Crossover with NCIS and CSI)

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Characters from NCIS and CSI are not my creation. Noinfringement intended.

Summary: When the Las Vegas team of CSI's visit NCIS on a case, Abby finally snaps.

Pairings: McAbby implied but not really delved into. This isn't really intended as a shipper story.

Author's note: The case itself isn't really explained, it's just a shameless plot device to set up a crossover scene involving Abby and Hodges, that I've wanted to see written for quite some time now.

* * *

"I'm gonna kill him," Abby stated flatly.

"Oh… now, Abby, don't be hasty…" Jimmy pleaded with her.

"Oh, I won't be hasty. I plan to kill him very, very slowly."

Abby sounded stressed out beyond all reason. Jimmy hadn't seen her like this since right before she'd finally gotten rid of Chip. He glanced over at the bone of her contention, working at a high-powered microscope, completely oblivious to the conversation that was happening across the lab from him.

"Abby, be reasonable," he said, looking down at her with a small, pleading smile.

"I'm serious, Jimmy. He's been kissing my butt so hard since he got here I've got big hickeys on it. That is _so_ not cool."

Jimmy thought a moment, then took a quick glance over to their other visitor, the one who _wasn't_ annoying Abby to within an inch of his manhood. Making an impulsive decision, he reached down and swept Abby up in his arms.

"Hey! Jimmy, put me down!" she protested, giving him her dirtiest look. She grabbed at his upper arm for support, then grinned. "Hey, Jims, you're really built," she said appreciatively, giving his bicep a squeeze. Jimmy frowned at her. "Quit trying to change the subject." Just then, Timothy McGee walked into the lab.

"Palmer, what the hell are you doing?" It was an eerie flashback to another time, involving superglue and a huge misunderstanding, and one jealous Special Agent who wasn't normally prone to overreacting, definitely overreacting.

"I'm putting Abby back in her happy place, Tim. And you're gonna help me."

Definitely not a flashback to that earlier time. Jimmy Palmer's voice was not filled with apprehension this time, but rather, determination to rope Tim McGee into what ever plan it was he'd devised on the spur of the moment, for Abby.

"I don't want to see Hodges on Dr. Mallard's autopsy table, and I definitely don't want to find evidence that Abby was the one who put him there," Jimmy stated flatly. Abby snorted and muttered under her breath, "You know damn well I wouldn't leave evidence." McGee ignored her mutterings and nodded at Jimmy, in understanding and agreement. "That bad, huh?"

Jimmy sighed with resignation. "I'm afraid so. You get the handcuffs and the lighter. I'll take her into her office." Abby struggled only briefly, and it seemed only a token effort.

Tim snickered. He suddenly understood what Palmer was up to. Abby had pulled the same thing on him, many months ago, when he'd shot that undercover Metro cop and was throwing himself one hell of a pity party. "Ah. I think I'm smellin' what you're cookin', Jimmy," he said, reaching to a shelf for a lighter, and then reaching behind himself to retrieve his handcuffs from the small holster on his belt.

Greg Sanders glanced over at the scene before him, and smiled to himself. So, Hodges had finally made Abby snap. Hodges and his incessantly annoying, incessantly _incessant_, butt-kissing ways. He turned back to the test he was running, unbeknownst to Abby - his new buddy and temporary co-worker. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the analyses, and then glanced over at the giant cup of that Caf-Pow stuff that she was always chugging. He shook his head, and wondered that she only seemed half as high-strung as she probably should have been. He gathered the results of the other tests he'd already run – the ones that actually _were_ connected to the odd case that had brought him and the rest of Grissom's team to D.C., to work in conjunction with NCIS.

He glanced over to Hodges. Still in oblivious mode. Well, he liked to have all his ducks in a row when he turned on the smarm with his superiors. He wondered how Grissom managed to stomach the little twerp. Granted, Hodges was very good at what he did… but his delivery definitely could use work. Not to mention, a healthy dose of modesty.

Greg grinned to himself as he peeked around the corner, to the scene unfolding in Abby's office.

"Guys, this is _so_ not fair, you're ganging up on me," Abby protested. "Greg, are you gonna let them get away with this?" she called out, pleading for help.

"Leave the visiting CSI out of this," Jimmy said, "This has nothing to do with him." McGee nodded. "Disregard that, Greg," he called out. Greg snickered. And he thought Sara, Nick, and Warrick were nuts sometimes - an opinion only reinforced by his time spent with them in the field, since moving out of the lab. He turned and reached out for the lab phone when he heard it ringing.

When McGee had Abby firmly secured in her chair, and Jimmy had lit the aromatherapy candles, and the incense, and whatever other funky smelling things she had lined up in her little haven of return-to-bliss, he stood back, slapping his hands together. "That ought to do it, wouldn't you say, Tim?"

McGee stood back and admired their handiwork. "I'd say so, yes, Jimmy." He held out a hand and Jimmy took it, shaking it as they congratulated each other on a job well done.

"Jimmy," Abby said sweetly. "Remember that… thing you can do with your hands… on my shoulders and neck…? McGee smiled to himself. Maybe Palmer was biting off more than he could chew this time.

"Timmy," Abby said sweetly, turning to McGee. "You know that… foot thing you do?" She fluttered her green eyes at him. Damn, he hated when she did this. He loved it, absolutely loved it, and she knew it, but damn… he hated it at the same time.

McGee did the only thing he could think of. He bent down and softly kissed Abby's cheek, then turned his face and whispered in her ear, in as seductive a tone as he could muster, "You're not getting the keys to the cuffs, Abs."

"Guys," Greg called out from his temporary work space, "I think I've got what I need. I'm leaving copies here for you, I'll be in the squad room with Grissom and Agent Gibbs, if you've got any questions about these results."

"Who was on the phone, Greg?" Abby called out, trying to get back to work as best she could, under the circumstances.

"Nick and Agent DiNozzo. They're on their way back from the scene with some laptops for Sara and McGee to look at. They've also got some samples for DNA testing."

"Well, we should be able to let you out of here by the time they get back," McGee said sweetly. He reached out and patted Abby's cheek softly, and smiled at her. "If you're a good girl, Ziva cooked last night, so she could feed us today. She made lots, too. She wanted to feed the Vegas crew, as well." Abby's eyes lit up. "Ziva cooked for us?" Greg poked his head in. "This is a good thing?" he asked, his hunger and his interest both piqued. Abby winked at him. "A _very_ good thing." She gazed at McGee and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Do you think you could send her in to deal with," she whispered, nodding her head towards Hodges and sending her pigtails swaying. McGee gave her his sweetest look. "Mmmm… perhaps," he teased. "See you in a bit," he whispered, winking. Abby frowned at him. "Palmer, do your magic," McGee said, as Jimmy glanced at him, surprised. "You know, that… what do you call it, that thing you do with her shoulders and neck. She's all tensed up, I can tell."

McGee turned and walked out of the office, then waved at Greg to wait up. He forced a smile at Hodges, who looked up and waved, grinning in that smarmy, annoying way he had. "Ziva dealing with Hodges… that's a good thing?" Greg asked quietly. McGee gave him a delightfully wicked grin. "A _very_ good thing," he said, as they headed in to the elevator.

McGee definitely knew what Abby was on about. Hodges had a way of doing his job, albeit very well, but then simultaneously kissing ass while handing over his results. He knew that Dr. Robbins was consulting with Ducky on this one - it was a wonder Hodges wasn't in the morgue by now, with them.

As a corpse.


End file.
